The Hidden Music of Hogwarts
by annlynamup
Summary: Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, and Draco Malfoy all harbor secret talents. Music is the key to winning the war. Ron bashing, possible couples?
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Harry Potter Characters, I don't make any money off of this, and only do it for pleasure.

The Hidden Music of Hogwarts

Harry Potter:

He lovingly set down his cello, caressing the wood. Closing his eyes, he sighed. The music rocked through him, Mozart, Beethoven, and Trans-Siberian Orchestra. If there was one thing he missed about the Muggle world, it was the music. Sure, he had heard Mrs. Weasley's _Wizarding Wireless_, but there was no music at Hogwarts.

The school lacked art classes. There was no Muggle influence upon the curriculum, no art, music, P.E., and other classes that he grew up with. He missed that. Despite common belief, he had a great love for music, not just D.A.D.A.

He set up his music upon the stand, rosined his bow, and began to play. The music flowed out from beneath the bow; his eyes were maniacal eyes they chased the notes every which way. His fingers moved so fast that they were a blur. He began to nod his head in beat with the music, his messy black hair shaking fiercely as the music sped up, and the time signature changed. He was unaware of Voldemort, unaware of the Tri-Wizard tournament, unaware that Ron was no longer speaking to him, unaware of his abusive "family". Harry Potter was in ecstasy.

Towards the end of the song, the music slowed, too a heart wrenching finale. With a flourish of his bow, he played the final note. He hadn't realized it, but tears had begun to form in his eyes at the beauty and meaning of the song. It was the story of his life. The song had begun fast and happy, his early life, pre-parents-death. Then slowed as it showed the abuse he faced at the hands of the Durseley's. Finally, it went into a magical, Disneyesque conclusion, Hogwarts.

He was alone, in the Room of Requirement. There was no audience, no fans, but he felt more accomplished then he ever did during Quidditch. Although he was an excellent flier, he didn't truly enjoy Quidditch-just the feel of being in the air.

He looked at his watch, and sighed. He had to go. It was dinner time and he was needed. He hesitantly put his cello in its case, wishing to still play. He put the bow in, careful not to touch the strings, and closed the case. He picked it up and walked out of the room.

He was not the only practicing his talent.

Hermione Granger:

She sat up in her dorm, the doors locked, and a silencing charm place on it. She didn't want anyone hear her. She opened up her mouth, and hesitantly began.

She sang. Most musicians mock singers, wrongfully so. Singers put a lot of time and effort into perfecting their "instrument". Their reputation was ruined by a bunch of girls who wanted to be Britney Spears. The right voice could reduce a man to tears, change people's lives, and bring to life the most ridiculous stories.

_Crescendo, tutti, decrescendo, Forte! Soprano's sing the Staccato, _while_ Alto's continue the chorus rapidly at a mezzo forte, repeat, only Alto's at a forte! Syncopation on the "Alleluia" hold out the final breathes, stagger breathe, cut!_

She was singing, the song that always made her heart ache with life and happiness. She did not live for books, she lived for music! She lived for the time when she could just sing. It was once said that a true singer sings whatever pops into their head; that was Hermione Granger.

She was a loud soprano, a soulful alto, a meek second. She could recreate any note on the piano. Yet, she did not share her talent. Fear led her to believe that she was mediocre at best, and refused to sing in front of a crowd.

She could not laugh, as she would have like too, instead sang with such joy- "Sing as you will, oh singers all! Who sing because they want to sing?" Towards the end of the song, she was pleading with the audience, "Sing any song, anywhere, but sing, sing, oh sing, oh sing!"

She missed singing with her Muggle choir; she loved the concerts, the practices, the directors. The songs they sang were diverse, Broadway hits, pop songs, to Monk chants and Latin hymns. She loved to sing in different languages, and feel the way the odd sounds felt on her tongue. Often she would ask to sing solo's, but would politely reject the offers.

When she finished, she was out of breath, and her cheeks were red. She laughed heartily, and put away her music. Meanwhile she hummed, and dejectedly took her books to the Great Hall where she would study, and eat. All the while she was ignored by her friends.

She sighed and went down to dinner.

Draco Malfoy:

His fingers were perched upon the piano, ghosting his favorite song-Mozart, Piano Concerto no. 21. He was happy.

Unlike his father, he was not a blood worshipper; he did not only care about people because of their blood status. He had to keep an act up for his parents; he didn't want to face a beating, or even worse, _Crucio. _He was lucky to discover the piano in the first place….it was so Muggle.

When he played, he felt all of the negative energy fall away from him, the dark mark branded onto his left arm, the secret that he was spying for the Order, the cruel taunts he received from his peers, and his father's unmerciful beatings. He could escape from the world. It would all melt away.

He could be himself, his shy quiet self. No one knew that he hated being an obnoxious git, he wanted to be friends with Potter. He wanted to be part of the bloody "Golden Trio", make it the "Golden Quartet". He could play those stories on the piano.

While he would sit, alone, by the Lake, he would compose. They would be stories, sometimes in need of a violin or cello, or lyrics. But the only part he could play was the piano, and occasionally sing the lower notes.

The whole popular thing was a sham. He wiped the sweat off his brow and began to play. He was shaking in anticipation as he began to play, knowing it would release his stress. He was correct. The stress melted away like wax on a candle. His fingers moved so fast that they were a blur, or so fast that it seemed forever until he would move them.

The whole thing was ridiculous, but he was addicted. He loved the way the music flowed from his body.

**Authors Note: So does anyone want me to continue? What do you think? Please Review. Thanks.**


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Harry Potter characters. I am just playing with them.

Hermione Granger and Harry Potter:

Hermione hurried up the stair cases, towards the Room of Requirement. Ever since Dumbledore had announced that there would be a talent show at the end of the year, she had been practicing. She wanted with all her heart to be in the Talent Show, to show that she wasn't just a filthy Mudblood.

When she arrived at the Room of Requirement, she was surprised to hear the cello already softly playing. The music was so smooth and sorrowful she wanted to cry. As the bow would drift over the notes, her heart would slowly melt, and arms get goose bumps. She knew the song, and began to sing along.

Harry Potter was surprised to hear a strong soprano enter the song, on perfect key. The sound blended so well with his cello, that he couldn't stop. This was what he dreamed of, not Voldemort. She was completing his fantasy. He closed his eyes as he slowly held out the final note, and then finished. He was surprised to see his friend Hermione looking at him. He thought she was off with Viktor Krum, flirting.

The tri-wizard tournament had changed the trio. Ron now didn't speak to Harry; Hermione was always off with Viktor, and he was left with his training for the tournament, and music. He had felt more alone then he ever had these past few months. Even when the Durseley's would lock him in a cupboard, he never felt as alone as he did these past few months.

His cello had been his only solace, though he was afraid that if someone saw him play, they would take it away.

He was terrified too see Hermione standing in the doorway, watching him. He knew,_ knew, _that she would try to take his love away. She would make him play for other people, show off his talent!

He didn't want too! His cello was his last secret he had, with Rita Skeeter sneaking around everywhere. Everyone knew his secrets, fears, loves, all except for one. He would not give them the pleasure of taking away the last thing he loved.

Hermione, on the other hand, was thinking the opposite. She could hardly believe that her best friend had been hiding this for so long. How had he been hiding so much talent? Finally someone she could relate to on a deeper level.

Sure, Harry had been her confidante, but she never expressed her love of music too him. Now she could; without fear of laughter, she could sing and play with him. She saw the fear in him though, the way he looked like a lost boy.

Hermione had to put herself in his shoes. She had just interrupted an intimate moment in his life….something she would not have liked. How could she be so insensitive, she thought. Hesitantly, she asked, "H-Harry?"

"Yes?" He looked like a lost boy, about to lose his pacifier.

"You never told me you could play the cello. You play wonderfully. I loved it." She said, as if speaking to a deer, and not wanting to spook it.

"I have played since before Hogwarts: in primary school. They taught all of us how to play the instrument of our choice." He was close to tears now.

"Harry, you don't understand what this means!" She was trying hard to contain her euphoria, but was failing.

"What? That I can play for everyone who asks! That I will share with the world the last bit of me I have _left_? Oh, Skeeter will have a field day! I can see the headlines now: 'Boy-Who-Lived Musical Prodigy'! I have nothing left of me, Hermione! Nothing! Everyone will want to hear me play, no not me. They want to hear the Boy-Who-Won't-Die play. No, I won't." He finished and he was out of breathe, his face bright red. There were tears flowing down his cheeks.

Hermione was astounded. This is not what she expected…not in the slightest bit. She expected him to be embarrassed, or a little shamefaced that he hadn't shared. She hadn't expected him too purposely to be hiding. She had to start slow.

"Harry, do you remember that voice you heard, while you were playing?" He nodded the affirmative, and she continued, "That was me, singing. This means that we are connected, Harry. Music comes from the soul, and we both have it. I understand why you're upset; when you play music for someone, you are exposing a part of your soul. The audience can either accept it, or reject it. You're afraid that they won't be accepting your soul, but someone else's." Her voice was strong and fierce, but quiet.

Harry looked up, bleary eyed, and softly questioned, "You won't take her away from me, or force me to play for others?"

"No Harry, I would never do that." Her honesty touched her eyes.

"Good." He said and walked out the door. Hermione was left, standing in the middle of the room, confused.

Draco:

Meanwhile, Draco Malfoy was poised, ready to play his piano. The look on his face was sheer love. He could not wait until the talent show to show the other's what he could do. Show them that he had more to offer.

While he played, though, he could not help but feel that something was missing. He slowly stopped playing, and reached for some blank sheet music and a quill.

He began to write in separate parts for his previously written piano arrangement. There was a cello, and vocal part, but no one he knew sang or played.

Distraught, he sought solace through his music, hoping tomorrow would be better.

Little did he know that the castle wanted a trio of musicians to play for them. The Hogwarts magic was going to force the trio together, no matter what.

**Authors Note: First, I would like everyone to review on whether this should be a Draco/Harry fic, or Hermione/Draco, or Harry/Hermione. Also, I would like to thank everyone who posted me for there alerts. This is my first fic. **


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